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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26236201">Limbo Lost</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnsmile/pseuds/spnsmile'>spnsmile</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action/Adventure, Adventure &amp; Romance, Bermuda Triangle, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Castiel Has a Crush on Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Being Idiots, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel and Dean Winchester Use Their Words, Castiel and Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester are Jack Kline's Parents, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel and Sam Winchester are Jack Kline's Parents, Castiel is Protective of Dean Winchester, Crack, Crushes, Curses, Cute, Dark Crack, Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Eventual Happy Ending, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, Forehead Kisses, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Inappropriate Humor, Love, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Mythology References, Non-Consensual Touching, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Protectiveness, Romance, Rough Kissing, Sad Dean Winchester, Sexual Humor, Some Humor, Sorcerers, Supernatural Elements, Team Free Will (Supernatural), Team Free Will 2.0 (Supernatural), Threats of Rape/Non-Con, True Love, Witches</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:55:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,721</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26236201</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnsmile/pseuds/spnsmile</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel reveals Emily Dickinson is a prophet, Dean needs to board a hot air balloon, but most importantly TFW2.0 needs to retrieve a mythical weapon from heaven where a literal door in the sky exists. Adventure is clearly out there until the blue sky turns dark and things explode because the Bermuda Triangle is known for that.</p><p>Amidst all the distractions of mirrors and doors, all Dean can think about is romance his angel or invoke his fury while Castiel only wants to gut a sorceress for laying a hand on his charge.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Team Free Will Big Bang: Collection 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Another bang in the bag! And this crazy baby is here with the help of my partner in crime and her owow art now available in the pages! thank you so much verobatto-angel-hunter for putting life to this funsmexy story haha!</p><p>Go check her art &lt;3 enjoy!</p><p>https://verobatto-angelxhunter.tumblr.com/post/628078709148123136/hi-im-so-happy-to-share-with-you-the-artwork-i</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <a href="https://verobatto-angelxhunter.tumblr.com/post/628078709148123136/hi-im-so-happy-to-share-with-you-the-artwork-i">  </a>
</p><p>Dean is grabby. That’s what Jack said when he recapped their latest hunt inside the impala where Castiel and Dean are once again not talking.</p><p>This was after the hunter once again hampered Castiel’s attack against a demon, throwing himself in front of the angel to tackle the demon only to be blasted away to the wooden wall with splinters flying everywhere. He didn’t move from the floor.</p><p>Outraged, Castiel beats the demon so much, it expelled itself from its vessel only to be smitten by Jack midair, leaving them with two dead victims.</p><p>Castiel was beside himself when he went to Dean’s side who was bleeding heavily on the floor. Stricken, he healed Dean’s torn shoulder in one go. Sam came from upstairs, looking around wildly but Castiel got Dean as he helped him up his feet, touched Dean’s chin to check his cheeks left and right. Dean smiles gratefully.</p><p>Except Castiel’s mood wasn’t that sweet and charmed by Dean—no, he was still there, but the blade in his eyes told so much of disapproval like he wanted to say something, decided against it, then pulled away from the hunter and proceeded to ignore him the entire ride home.</p><p>Dean noticed it when Castiel slammed the door of the impala after he climbed in. Then Castiel refused to meet his eyes when called him from the rearview mirror. Tensed silence filled the impala as Dean drove, then finally feeling the atmosphere, Dean asked what’s got Cas’ hormones malfunctioning. Castiel flashed him a deadly stare. Dean returned the favor. Sam clapped his hands to avoid the threatening outburst in the confined space and ended the awkward silence with a conversation with Jack.</p><p>That’s how they find themselves tired and exhausted when they arrived at the Bunker. The doors of the car were all thrown open at once. Dean glared after Castiel who shot towards the stairs without looking back. Grumpily, Dean went to get the bags from the trunk, talking to Sam about angel mood swings, but when he shut the hood down, it wasn’t Sam whom he found waiting for him. It’s Cas. Dean looks down the car.</p><p>“This about me helping you out?” he asks, pulling the bag to his shoulder and playing with the car key on his hands. He sees Cas turn and leans his back on the car door with hands deep inside his pocket.</p><p>“I don’t understand why you keep doing that. You know I’m an angel. I don’t get hurt.”</p><p>“Not a reason for me to enjoy you getting blown to pieces.”</p><p>“I’m not saying I’m immortal. I’m trying to say that my body is protected with a grace that can sustain any physical damage you mortals cannot. It doesn’t make sense that you’d get in the way to protect me.” Castiel says bluntly.</p><p>“It doesn’t?” Dean raises his eyes feeling slightly stung, “Me saving you doesn’t make sense now?”</p><p>Castiel turns to him with the usual look of ‘it-is-what-it-is’, so Dean rolls his eyes, locked the car trunk, and slammed his heavy bag on top of the trunk.</p><p>“Well, my bad for acting on instincts.”</p><p>“I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”</p><p>“Well, what are you doing now?”</p><p>Silence met his words as Dean swallows the lump in his throat. He didn’t mean to sound like a baby, and he really doesn’t want to show this side to Cas most of the time but it has a habit of coming out and lashing at the angel. Probably because Cas has that effect on him—to just let him be true to himself.</p><p>“I don’t understand why you keep doing that. You know I’m an angel. I don’t get hurt.”</p><p>“You’re welcome.” Dean nods with a shrug and when Cas tries to retort, he shakes his head, “Look—it already happened. I already did it—if you can talk me out of doing it before it happens, congratulations. You think I can stop my body from doing what it does?”</p><p>Castiel gives him a gripping look.</p><p>“You have to stop it.”</p><p>Dean snorts. It was an understatement but what the hell was Dean to do? Let it happen? A bullet has a better chance to miss than Dean actually stopping what his body does. Cas doesn’t really understand at all.</p><p> “I’m serious, Dean. It’s beginning to get tiresome.”</p><p>There’s a beat.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“It’s bothersome,” Castiel says bluntly, “I wish you’d be smarter about it.”</p><p>“Excuse me?” Dean raises his eyes feeling stung, “Me saving you isn’t smart now?”</p><p>Castiel turns to him with the usual look of ‘it-is-what-it-is’. Dean couldn’t believe it and it showed in his face. Castiel only deadpans so Dean tried to take a moment to think it through, breathe in the concern of the angel for his wellbeing, knows that Castiel is only worried for him—he shouldn’t get angry, he’s above that. Cas doesn’t want him to interfere, fine. Message received.</p><p>“Well, my bad for acting on instincts.” He snaps, snatching the bag and walking around the opposite side of the car, “Sorry for bothering.”</p><p>“Dean,” Castiel’s tone is solemn, “I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”</p><p>Dean doesn’t look back and just like how Castiel showed him a while ago, he walks straight to the metal stairs without looking back. He knows Castiel is right behind him despite the silence in the angel’s footfalls. Castiel can walk as lithe as a feather when he means to, Dean often forgets Castiel have those wings he’s never seen more than shadows. Castiel can also be an unreasonable troll when out of mood with heavy footsteps that call for attention.</p><p>But Dean loves him and Castiel knows that. It might’ve slipped somewhere when they began sleeping together, between the warmth of tight embrace under the covers where Dean never felt more complete. Cas tells him he knew. They just never label their relationship right.</p><p>They didn’t talk, both still simmering and furious when Dean opens the door. A clap on his hand and a pull—Castiel is in front of him at once. Dean is accustomed to such quick act knew at once there’s something threatening in there—he thinks of Sam and Jack at once and his eyes roam wildly for the enemy and fall on one deity—</p><p>“You….” Dean breathes as Billie deadpans coldly he could feel a shiver run down his spine.</p><p>“I hope you are ready for the next task for Jack.”</p><p>Castiel doesn’t relax but he lets Dean stand beside him. They exchange glances, Dean more accusing then back to Billie exactly as Jack emerged from the door with Sam right behind him.</p><p>“What is it now?” Dean asks.</p><p>“It’s not simple,” it earned a skeptic snort from the hunter.</p><p>Billie glares, “We need to open another door.”</p><p>“Just go straight to the point, we just came back from a hunt,” Dean drops his bag between him and Castiel who caught his eyes with a frown. “We’re tired.”</p><p>“Then I suggest you get your energy back before you read a poem.”</p><p>“Poem? What poem?” Sam frowns. Billy snaps her fingers and a think leathered pocketbook landed on Dean’s face before catching it clumsily.</p><p>“What the hell is this?” Dean wrinkles his nose. He flips the book to the cover and saw nothing except an illustration of a door drawn in fading black ink.</p><p>“You have to reach for the same thing that Icarus wanted to achieve,” Billie says cryptically.</p><p>“Icarus—as in Icarus <em>Icarus?” </em>Sam blinks once then approached Dean. Like Castiel, he also leaned over Dean’s shoulder to see the book but Billie is no longer looking at him but at Jack.</p><p>“You are the only one capable of doing it,”</p><p>“Wait— don’t just vanish like some psycho puzzle machine,” Dean snarls, raising the book, “What the hell is this? What Icarus? What’s Jack supposed to do?”</p><p>Billie waits for that suspenseful pause where she looks at everybody. Dramatically. Dean rolls his eyes again.</p><p>“A heavenly weapon,” she says, “the most powerful weapon that has killed many gods, even the ancient ones. A weapon that has been used to defeat one’s kin.”</p><p>A long silence.</p><p>“That’s it?” Dean grits his teeth while Sam snatches the pocketbook and opens the first page. There written on in the middle of the parchment are the words, <em>I dwell in Possibility.</em></p><p>“That’s Emily Dickinson’s,” Sam raises eyes to Billie, “Why would you care about an Emily Dickenson piece?”</p><p>“It’s a clue to the whereabouts of the weapon long forgotten.”</p><p>Dean’s frown gets heavier, “So you want us to search for another weapon that’s been long forgotten? What’s with you and all these lost objects, do we look like lost and found?!”</p><p>“It’s in a Limbo, where flames often fall into the sea,”</p><p>“Riddles, riddles—” Dean yaps. Castiel gives him a sharp look.</p><p>“Stop it, Dean.”</p><p>“Find it, or we all lose.” Billie’s eyes gleam and then she’s gone.</p><p>“Oh, for the love of—" Dean breaks away from Castiel and Sam edgily, the annoyance creeping inside his stomach, his bad temper might just blow on anyone. Enough fighting for the day.</p><p>“Dean, where are you going?” Castiel calls out. Jack joins them looking curious.</p><p>“Shower!”</p><p>“Dean, we gotta figure this out,” Sam says without looking up.</p><p>“You figure it out, you’re the brains, I'm just the looks and brawns, remember?”</p><p>“Why Emily Dickinson?” Dean heard Jack asked as he walked away and the last thing, he heard is Castiel’s gravelly voice saying, “She’s a prophet.”</p><p>
  <em>Figures.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Who rides hot air balloons this century!?” </em>
</p><p>Dean says outrageously after Sam announces they would be needing one if they wanted to get their hands on the ‘<em>weapon</em> as per Billie’s instruction to get the essential ‘<em>heavenly weapon</em>’ needed for the fight.</p><p>Once Billie is out with only a book of poem and information about a <em>Limbo </em>where flames often fall into the sea, Sam conjures interpretation half an hour later by hitting the books quickly—citing that Billie was talking about the <em>Bermuda Triangle </em>the only location above the sea where they can catch this ‘<em>flames</em>’ and that the weapon she spoke about is the <em>Phaeton Lightning</em> <em>bolt</em>, the weapon used by Zeus to strike the over crazed chariot whose horses not even Zeus can control himself. The same ‘power’ in a sense that killed his <em>kin, </em>his father who had tried to kill him too.</p><p>“See? It’s how the lightning bolt was used—and Dean I know we already killed Zeus—”</p><p>“What?” Jack starts in surprise while Castiel squints.</p><p>Dean’s mouth remains hanging open, browse contorted. It doesn’t make sense.</p><p>“So why a hot air balloon!?”</p><p>“The poem is pointing at the sky, Dean,” Castiel says from the table where Dean gapes at him, “A gifted prophet without her knowing, she channeled her gift to write like what most prophets do—to try and explain what she saw in her vision. This is one of them.”</p><p>Dean shakes his head.</p><p>“Actually, I think she wrote about us,” Sam says with an enlightened smile. “<em>The Gamblers of the Sky.”</em></p><p>“What?” Dean stood near him to lean on the book he’s reading, “Are you blind? That’s not a gambler, that’s gambrels.”</p><p>“Easily a typo, prophets aren’t really known to hold it together when upon a vision,” Castiel explains and all of their thoughts drifted to their latest prophet of the century. “The clues point at the sky, a possibility of a location hidden in the sky, of a door—”</p><p>Dean gives Cas a long look before leaning down the book. He silently reads—</p><p>
  <em>I dwell in Possibility—</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A fairer House than Prose</em>
</p><p>
  <em>More numerous of Windows</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Superior—for Doors—</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of Chambers as the Cedars—</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Impregnable of eye—</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And for an everlasting Roof</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The Gambrels of the Sky—</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of Visitors—the fairest—</em>
</p><p>
  <em>For Occupation— This</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The spreading wide my narrow Hands</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To gather Paradise.</em>
</p><p>“She really needs to hold out the dashes,” Dean murmurs, “Damn riddles disguised as poetries,”</p><p>“Sounds right up Billie’s alley,” Castiel says quietly.</p><p>“<em>Sounds like suicide</em>!” Dean growls, shifting from one foot to another. “And why the hell would you guys think of a friggin balloon? She mentioned Icarus, why can’t Jack just fly there?”</p><p>There’s a beat of silence where Sam and Castiel exchanges look. Dean blinks. “What?”</p><p>“We mostly think it’s a warning,” Jack says with eyes still down the screen of his laptop, “Icarus died from flying. Anyone who will try to approach the Superior Door guarded by ‘Impregnable Eyes’.”</p><p>
  
</p><p>Dean licks his lips. Trust Sam and Cas combined together to untangle all meanings of words in common language when they can decipher a dead language and Enochian. Still—</p><p>
  <em>“So why the hot air balloon!?”</em>
</p><p>“It’s said in the Phaeton was used on a chariot, Dean, and the closest we have of that without needing any flying horse is a harmless hot air balloon. If we’re looking for a door—<em>we’re actually looking for a large dwelling place with lots of doors and windows— w</em>e need something open air that can hold the four of us where we can freely step up and control without excessive engine force—"</p><p>“Wait—three of you? Who’s gonna—” at his question, Sam pointedly looks at him. “You’re gonna leave me behind—while the babysitter tags along!?” he points at Cas who half rolls his eyes again.</p><p>“I can’t leave Jack, and I’m his foster father.”</p><p><em>“</em>Dean, you don’t have to come with us,<em> really,”</em> Sam says it without any judgment and even tries to appease his brother with a gentle tone which only served to irk Dean.</p><p>“Alright, that’s smart, I’m not gonna get left behind where Billie can visit and annoy me with her endless rhymes and suspicious schemes! And tell me, Sammy, <em>have you ever flown a hot air balloon?”</em></p><p>“No, but we can always do rentals.” Sam shrugs.</p><p>“And what— give the guy an introduction to Supernatural when he sees some sky door, we’re not even sure that really exists?”</p><p>“It says ‘<em>I dwell in the Possibility, Dean</em>,” Castiel inclines his head to the book, “you have to have more faith to Supernatural beings.”</p><p>Dean shuts his mouth, green eyes fixating on the angel. They both know Castiel is talking beyond what he means and that just hit him right in the gut. He can’t figure out if Cas wants him to go or not. It’s common knowledge Dean hates anything that leaves the ground.</p><p>“I still rather you come with us,” Castiel says like he could read Dean’s mind, blue eyes meaningful. “I’d be more comfortable with you around.”</p><p>“I thought you said I shouldn’t bother?”</p><p>“It doesn’t mean I don’t want you around. That’s like asking the sun to leave the sky.”</p><p>“Aw, Cas you think I’m the sun?” Dean pipes up, flushing and they locked gazes for so long Sam had to clear his throat. He wasn’t the only one.</p><p>“Found it,” Jack says, and the trio turns just as Jack flip the screen of his laptop to show them, “They do a week’s tutorial too. Sam can learn it, he’s so good at learning.”</p><p>No question to that.</p><p>
  
</p><p>“We’re gonna fucking die,” Dean says with conviction after parking the impala with Castiel who had stayed behind while Sam and Jack have already gone ahead to the registration area with false IDs but real certificate as a certified aviator.</p><p>“It’s going to be fine; Sam spent an entire week learning how to really fly them, Dean,”</p><p>“You think that’s enough?”</p><p>“You saw him fly one. You do him a disservice if you doubt him now.”</p><p>“He’ll do me a disservice if I die falling.” Dean swallows but he nods quietly.</p><p>Castiel patiently waited for him to get his shit together. It took a little more before Dean is leaning on the heels of both his palms.</p><p>“I should fucking have it now—been used like a jet plane by Michael so what—”</p><p>A firm clasp on his shoulder, and then flickering blue frowning at him. “I don’t want you to think about that. Don’t think about Michael, Dean…It’s going to be okay, I’m here.” Castiel repeats, gripping his shoulder. It surprisingly helped to be under the caring eyes of his angel. Cas looks beautiful like that.</p><p>“Why is it okay when you do it, and not okay when I do?” Dean says, staring with a sigh at the angel.</p><p>“What do you mean?” Cas narrows his eyes.</p><p>“I said thank you. We should go before I decide to bring us back to the Bunker.”</p><p>“Why would you do that?”</p><p>Dean didn’t answer as he opened his door. Walking side by side towards the field, they caught up with Sam and Jack being to the registration where they signed waivers and death certificates which just added to Dean’s day.</p><p>“It’s gonna be okay,” Sam assures him with a smile.</p><p>“You better say it to my face,” Dean snaps, “we’re not only going to the most dangerous place on earth called Devil’s Island, we have a 99.9 percent chance of crashing down said island because we’re aiming to be <em>hit</em> by lightning, and were <em>off ten thousand feet from the ground!</em> Of course, we’ll die.”</p><p>“You sound excited,” Castiel comments, making Dean snort.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m ecstatic.”</p><p>With Sam following the assistant to the open field, Dean only gets agitated as they climb the uphill hike towards the beyond. He doesn’t concentrate on that. He watches Castiel whose trench coat swaying with the wind picking up early that morning with the sun about to rise. He and Dean trudge up the hill with the hunter beside him doing the steps grudgingly.</p><p>They take one least heave up the mound of terrain and found themselves at the top of the hill with the overview of the caravan launch site filled with dozens hot air balloon covering the entire ground—a field of all colors of hot air balloons on the ground,  filled with happy goers and travel-filled adventurers laughing and giggling, others more intently listening to their pilots. Behind the view is the sunrise from the east adding tones and hues to the picturesque event.</p><p>Dean and Castiel exchanges look.</p><p>“At least the wind direction is good,”</p><p>They follow Sam and Jack stationed at the far end of the field. Excited bubbles fill their ears of the hot-air-balloon goers but Dean only gives them scathing looks. To be young.</p><p>“You use the bathroom yet? Sam chides the moment Dean stops in front of them beside a gigantic basket with the flat balloon still on the ground.</p><p>“Shut up,” Dean stares the basket up to the inflated gigantic rainbow balloon, “Cute. Looks harmless.”</p><p>“So get this, there’s going to be a brief orientation for the rest of you since I’m the only one with a license.”</p><p>“Good for you with that license to kill,” Dean nods.</p><p>“Shut up, Dean. Just Listen to him, okay? Don’t make the instruction long, don’t flirt—”</p><p>Dean and Castiel glances at each other—one inquiring—the other deflecting.</p><p>“There’s Paul,” Jack tells them, and the four waits up till a tall man with clean-cut hair wearing a white collared shirt joins them. He introduces himself as Paul, a Spanish professional pilot whose interests don’t actually interest Dean who yawned before Sam is kicking him in the shin.</p><p>“You look confident, I like that,” Paul says to him.</p><p>“That’s your problem,” Dean winks and they see Paul giving him a smile.</p><p>“You look terrified to me,” Castiel whispers on Dean’s ear, warm breath brushing on his skin.</p><p>“That’s my problem,” Dean replies with a yearning look over Cas’ lips. Sam clears his throat and as if on cue, the instructor claps both hands.</p><p>“Okay, I won’t make it long since we already have Mr. Fuller as your main command pilot,” he nods at Sam, “This will only serve as a reminder. You have the basket; you have the balloon and the inflation process and components are checked properly. This is a high-powered inflation fan that can be maneuvered with a simple reading of the wind. For that, he needs an assistant. I’m guessing the handsome guy to assist him with the envelope, are you?” he points at Dean who nods vigorously even though he was very busy nudging Castiel on the ribs for the hell of it.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah that would be me.” Dean gives him a thumbs up.</p><p>“Very good, you look very bright.”</p><p>Dean smiles all cheekily and smugly turns to Cas. “That dude likes me, Cas?”</p><p>“He said he likes you.”</p><p>“You think we should hit it off after we get back?”</p><p>“I’m assuming by ‘we’ you mean you and me?”</p><p>“Who else?”</p><p>Paul’s voice drifted between their staring contest. “Once the balloon is ready, all passengers are requested not to do any horseplay or you’ll lead yourself to certain death. Mind the cables and not wrap any ropes around your body parts and most importantly, <em>listen to your pilot.” </em>He points at Sam, “Once the pilot lights the burner and bring the balloon upright by the blowing fire—” he catches Dean’s eyes— “from the propane thanks, that’s when you all can climb into the gondola—here—”</p><p>Dean tugs Castiel’s arm and leans close to his ear, “I’d rather trust you with the wings to carry me, Cas.”</p><p>“Thank you for the confidence,” Castiel replies drily, earning him a flashing smile from the hunter. “I’d rather not use them as they are currently broken.”</p><p>“Aw. Then I’ll carry you. You can’t be that heavy, you’re an angel.”</p><p>“My vessel’s body mass is 165 pounds—"</p><p>“Excuse me? Are you guys listening?” They both turn again at the instructor. Dean nods, Castiel shakes his head. Sam sighs. Paul points at the gondola, “Well, I actually want to come with you,” he looks at Dean specifically, “but I guess you’re capable enough so… I’ll see you when land at 4:00 pm PST.”</p><p>“The number of times he winks at you, I’m getting signals.” Sam whispers to his brother in exasperation, “maybe I shouldn’t have bothered with learning to be a pilot when we can get a pilot for free.”</p><p>“Yeah, except I hate pilots,”</p><p>“Why? They never did anything to you.” Castiel mutters with eyes at Dean</p><p>“This one obviously wants to do me,” Dean hooks an arm around Castiel’s shoulder and watches Sam and Paul begin undoing the cables and expertly handling the tank and propane. In no time the balloon is standing up and Dean won’t stop cracking suggestive jokes about a morning balloon getting up the sky’s belly.</p><p>“Stop the dick jokes, Paul’s already getting warmer,” Sam warns Dean and fifteen seconds later, there’s Paul in front of him when he turns around to look for Cas.</p><p>“Hey, what’s your name?”</p><p>Dean points at Castiel who appeared behind Paul’s shoulder, “I have a boyfriend, sorry.”</p><p>“Oh,” says the pilot blinking from Castiel to Dean in disappointment. “He doesn’t seem to be the jealous type?”</p><p>“He’s burning inside,” Dean says, “Not really quick on the uptake.”</p><p>Once he joins Castiel, the angel turns to him as Sam and Jack begin unloading the gondola.</p><p>“Are we?” Castiel asks with a tilt of the head, “Finally boyfriends?”</p><p>Dean stares at him and sighs before slapping his brother’s shoulder and saying— “Job work to do Sammy, yeah, be the aero<em>nut</em>,” Dean says sarcastically.</p><p>Sam presses his lips. And off the balloon goes high up the sky.</p><p>The ascent wasn’t very appealing, at least to Dean who jumped at the first violent shake because of the breeze, nearly replacing Castiel’s arm with his body the way he just attached himself to the angel. He grunts when he saw Sam smiling his way, but Dean’s gotta admit, his brother got it. Soon they are rising altitude and Dean is muttering about going back to land or he’ll shoot the balloon.</p><p>“Don’t be an idiot, you want us to explore? The balloon’s filled with hydrogen.”</p><p>“You think I didn’t know that? And I didn’t bring any weapon. What use is a gun against a crazy god weapon?” but it’s the first time Dean appreciates Castiel’s body for being so sturdy and not complaining about how his arm is numbing. A normal person will be complaining about it now. Castiel only lets him while he enjoys the feel of the sky, Dean can’t help but feel beholden despite his queasiness.</p><p>He sometimes forgets Castiel misses the view.</p><p>Sam takes the job very seriously as he pulls on the errant ropes with his long limbs securely. Soon they gain enough height to watch the sunrise Dean just describes as magical.</p><p>“It’s the same no matter the time,” Castiel says very quietly, Dean thought he might be talking to himself, “It’s just different now because I have you.” He turns to Dean.</p><p>“Sweet talking me won’t make me stop wanting to puke,”</p><p>Castiel smiles and he stands against the sun-facing Dean who grips Castiel’s arm closer.</p><p>“Stop that, you’re dazzling me.”</p><p>“Dean, are you okay? Your face is burning red like Jupiter. Or are you still angry?”</p><p>“Ask me that again, I’ll vomit on your feet, I’m serious.”</p><p>“Is he okay?” Jack asks and Dean forces a smile with one hand up to stop them.</p><p>“No crowding.”</p><p>Sam snorts because Dean’s worse than an octopus against Cas, he knows.</p><p>“I can heal you,” Castiel offers and Dean not protesting tells them as much of his pain. “Dean… do… do you want me to send you to sleep?”</p><p>Dean snaps in attention enough to pull a little away from the angel.</p><p>“What, so I can wake up and find my soul out of my body after a crash? No, I’d rather be alive and see myself die, okay?”</p><p>Castiel heals him anyway while Sam rolls his eyes.</p><p>“We got a great view of the sky,” Sam tells him, “We’re gonna be okay.”</p><p>“Yeah, and then wait till the lightning strike huh?”</p><p>“That’s not until we reach the triangle’s area.”</p><p>“And if we get stuck? Then what?”</p><p>“I’ll take care of it,” Jack says quietly. They all agreed that at least, it was very good weather. Castiel glances up the beautiful sky as they cross the ocean, a promise that soon changed after a few hours when they saw they were heading to where the darkened sky hovers.</p><p>“Usually, it’s there’s a storm coming,” Dean tells Castiel as he drops on the gondola’s floor, backsliding on the rough edges of the basket. Castiel follows suit and sat beside him, attentively listening, “now we’re heading for the storm.”</p><p>“You Winchesters always do that, Dean,” Castiel says quietly, “I mean… you’ve been saving this world your whole life so…”</p><p>“It’s what we do,” Dean grimaces at the first sound of thunder. The black clouds begin to accumulate around them.</p><p>Castiel doesn’t look away from him.</p><p>“It defines you, so green.” That shouldn’t make Dean’s heart skip a beat but it did. Their eye contest gets distracted by the basket giving another violent shudder. Dean shuts his eyes close and sinks his head between his arms. The sky completely darkens and Sam asks Jack to get the flashlight since he’s not allowed to use his power.</p><p>“Shit…” Dean mumbles with a lump in his throat, “I told you guys we should’ve just—”</p><p>“Nothing to do about it now,” Castiel says squinting at the weather, “Just hold on tight, Dean.”</p><p>Sure, enough Dean felt the breeze get colder and a whipping wind cracked the air. The first raindrops soon turned into a shower—then a full pledge storm. They were all wet to their skin by the time Dean is standing again to check on Sam and Jack. Castiel stood beside him without flinching like the fact that they were a hundred feet from a drop straight to the ocean didn’t matter—</p><p>A howl of wind—they are at the eye of the storm.</p><p>“This is a strong storm,” Jack shouts from somewhere. Dean doesn’t care about tumbling or air—they are in zero visibility— and despite it all, he found himself cracking up. Castiel holds his arm tight and Dean knows nothing can pry that hand from his arm unless he gets eaten by a shark. He takes a shot at Sam</p><p>“Was this part of the training, Sammy?”</p><p>“Shut up! Jack, hold tight—"</p><p>That’s when things escalate from bad to worse—the propellers spin faster until it’s out of control—Sam tried to get the ropes back but the sways from side to side until they are spinning. Water splashes everywhere and Sam’s shouting about keeping it together—</p><p>“Can’t we do something about it!?” Dean cries urgently.</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>“I can see something!” Jack says in the middle of the chaos but whatever it was, Dean had no chance of knowing as with a bust of wind—he gets knocked off his feet straight to Cas’ steady chest. He glances in time to see Jack hold on to Sam and knows his brother is in safe hands. Castiel turns him around so they are practically embracing each other—or at least Dean wrapping tight on Cas—and all that was there was the endless rotation of the hot air balloon.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There are sparks in the darkness and he somehow knew he's gaining consciousness even before his eyes get flooded by light.</p><p>Dean groans and the first thing he realized is that he’s on some warm pillow with strange edges and corners. Not to mention rough pillow cover.</p><p>“Are you okay, Dean?”</p><p>Dean finds himself staring at Castiel's deeper blue, much more than the sky behind him. It took him a moment to realize he was sleeping on Castiel’s legs. That was like a dream. Is he still dreaming?</p><p>The question must’ve appeared on his face because Castiel shakes his head.</p><p>“No, Dean, this isn’t a dream— the hot air balloon crash did happen—”</p><p>Dean sits at once with face red. He would be more flustered except the sensation of falling creeps back in his spine.  He remembers everything—the gondola, the storm—Jack and Sam— he snaps in attention and sees he’s back on earth’s soil—and he would really kiss the ground except—</p><p>“Sam and Jack!” he cries, raising to his knees looking around wildly.</p><p>Castiel calmly dusts his pants and then points up.</p><p>Dean screws his face then stares up. There’s nothing there but blue—what happened to the storm? Castiel looks equally frustrated.</p><p>“Cas? What?”</p><p>“Sam and Jack managed to enter the door.” The angel says quietly.</p><p>Dean’s mouth falls open. “But…us?”</p><p>“I told Jack to go ahead because I saw the island… it’s Jack who is needed there,” Castiel looks up too as if expecting something to drop. “I can’t fly, Dean.” His voice sounds heavy. Dean felt the pang of guilt directly assaulting him. For some reason,  he wanted to apologize but ended up biting his lips. It's too late to apologize. Castiel's wings will never be fixed.</p><p>His stomach turn. “It’s okay, Cas, Sam’s with him.”</p><p>Castiel slowly nods and hands Dean a flashlight. “In the meantime, we need to take care of ourselves. If we’re lucky, we can find a way to go up there. I think there should be a door around here too. Remember the poetry? Doors and windows could refer to portals… This place…”</p><p>Dean can’t help the feeling someone’s watching them.</p><p>“Where are we?”</p><p>“Looks like…” Castiel says, “Devil’s Island. Like a piece of hell... "</p><p>Dean shudders.</p><p>"Stay with me, Dean… there’s something menacing in this place…don't worry... I’ll protect you.” His eyes glow blue that just has Dean staring, making Dean so glad sometimes Castiel is <em>not his enemy. </em>Except, he didn’t want Cas to be his shield too. Something about the atmosphere irks Dean. Like he’s some damsel in distress…</p><p>"Don't worry, I can fight. Do you have an extra blade?"</p><p>Castiel shakes his head. "You left all your weapon?"</p><p>"I have a knife... but Sam made me drink that hellish drink you concocted...for something-"</p><p>"Evil." Castiel stares around the dead trees. "This island... is very old. I can't possibly imagine what creature lives here. Stay with me, Dean, I can protect you."</p><p>"I can protect myself too." the hunter grits his teeth.</p><p>"Of course. But not until we know what we're fighting against."</p><p>"Don't be funny."</p><p>"Not even close."</p><p>Dean stands up, glaring.</p><p>“Well, are you going to tell me not to protect you here again?” He throws a glance at the angel cautiously. Castiel pulls out his angel blade. When their eyes meet, clashing tension sparks the air and Dean retreats with a sigh.</p><p>“Don’t begin with that, please.”</p><p>Dean rolls his eyes.</p><p>"What about Sam and Jack?"</p><p>"We will find them, I just need to concentrate on making sure we come out of here alive."</p><p>The soft tone in his voice made Dean feel guilty because after all, Cas only wants to protect him. Alright, so he probably got too cocky there. And okay, they’re not good, and yes, it’s now clear Cas is taking a page out of Sam Winchester’s <em>no-fucking</em> with me book, but it’s not this that gets him heavily sighing while he braces himself for the long walk.</p><p>"Do you know where we are going?"</p><p>"At the heart of the storm."</p><p>Dean understood. So they are desperate for a way out, the only out is to find the owner of the place? </p><p><em>Holy shit,</em> Cas is in his Heaven’s orderly Commander-mode, but Dean can't help feeling powerless in this realm, wherever the hell this is. But the thought of leaving Sam and Jack up there leaves a bad taste in Dean’s mouth but it was not a choice he made easily. Cas is giving him the ‘<em>Snap out of it!’ </em>glare like worrying was never his thing, <em>telling him</em> to select the <em>best </em>action for now and he’s right— Sam and Jack need them alive.</p><p>Doesn’t mean his brother will come out unscathed.</p><p>"Are they gonna be okay up there?" he asks, wanting nothing but to keep talking to the angel.</p><p>"Wherever they are, it's better than here," Castiel replies without looking back.</p><p>That hurt Dean. What's wrong with him? Is Cas angry... because of his wings?</p><p>Shit... that's something Dean will never be able to return even if he offers himself to the devil.</p><p>Silence fell and only the sound of their feet crashing dried twigs on the dead land breaks echoed after them. Dean could swear he can hear his heart pounding too, not only because of fear but because Castiel suddenly turned from his marshmallow pillow leg to this soldier mode. He wondered what Castiel saw that made him turn vigilant.</p><p>That or he really pissed Cas. The angel started it though. Dean's not used to being protected. He only shakes his head as he raises his flashlight fast. Cas being objective now and maybe have a <em>plan</em> is everything Dean doesn’t have at the moment so he can’t complain. Cas can lead. Dean can do the worrying part. So, worry he did in silence.</p><p>The idea of falling in some Devil’s Island from a hot air balloon didn’t come appealing and there certainly wouldn't be any second time but Dean would rather die a horrific death than admit he’s having a bad case of mayday boost, ‘<em>Houston, we have a problem’</em> deep in his guts.</p><p>There was never gonna be a win-win situation so he’ll humor Cas. He doesn’t know what’s keeping his feet in the Bunker when he should be driving baby to Sam’s direction, but there’s something about the determination in Cas’ voice that holds him fast.</p><p>
  <em>I will protect you.</em>
</p><p>He never doubted that, but something in him wants to scream it back to the angel too. But Cas is angry, and Cast takes the mission seriously and his mission includes guiding Jack. Now he's stuck with Dean... again... Like how he has been ever since he fell... staying with the man that caused his fall. Dean felt nauseous. He’s tired mentally, his body just wants to crash, but he gotta get his shit together.</p><p> “Dean we need to move, Sam is praying to me… he’s not with Jack.”</p><p>Dean snaps his head to look at the angel. He's sure he heard an acid tone in Castiel's tone. Lying dormant anger behind the deadpan like he doesn't blame Dean for being stuck here. Discomfort enveloped his body. He avoids meeting the angel’s heavy frown because he knows the moment he looked there, whatever mojo Cas has left behind, would see right through his façade of melting point. He doesn’t answer, the rift appearing as menacing as it should.</p><p>“<em>Dean</em>.” Castiel snaps. Or was his tone gentle? But one thing- he didn’t just jump from a silent mental break down, no. He won’t admit catching Cas’ surprise expression, and definitely won’t speak about it later as he clenched his jaw</p><p>Cas probably can see how pathetic he is now fluctuating under the mess of his head and his heart. Can’t help it. Walls are coming down. He’s emerging from the solid barrier that now has no use to him. His heart has been restored to its position where he just feels everything like waves slamming on his face.</p><p>Another pang of guilt and Dean wavers. <em>Shit, shit… get it together…</em></p><p>Gritting his teeth, Dean gathered his useless phone last and tuck it deep in his pocket. Dread spreads like wildfire in his chest, his hand shook a little as he held the rifle close to his heart, his eyes linger over absence because he’s <em>alone</em>. Sam’s captured up heaven's door with Jack. Cas will blame him for leaving Jack on his own when Cas' mission is to protect the kid... not Dean... He's not supposed to protect Dean anymore... And here he is with a hollowed feeling slowly clawing up his spine.</p><p>A cold bead of perspiration already sliding down his back beating to the rhythm of his erratic heart. <em>Castiel should go to Jack... but... </em>It’s like being asked to return willingly in nightmare prison that hosted most of his unpleasant dreams— his trauma, his fear of abandonment and Dean is stuck in time again where Castiel disappears— where Castiel lets go of his hands—</p><p>
  <em>Where Cas chose to leave him again—</em>
</p><p>A spasm of silent panic hits his erratic speeding heart, consuming him. <em>He couldn’t do this… not with Castiel… Cas…</em></p><p>He sees someone standing in front of him but Dean can hear voices too and they were not pleasant. Dean watches the angel go in resignation as he bows his head, his jaw clenching because Cas is right, apparently, the only guy in the team thinking straight while he, Dean, isn’t.</p><p>He looks around the darkness huffing and distracted, flashlight flickering to the shadows of the trees. They both start to walk in the same direction which might just allude to how they’re bodies are synchronizing. Dean pushes the thought at the back of his brain. No time for chick flicks.</p><p>It’s about the second time the angel scoffed his decision making, turning his nose up if Dean’s gonna bitch about it. It’s hazy and misty in the darkness of the forest, but it’s clear as daylight that Cas thinks Dean is not up to standard hunter type, practically just a load who can’t even manage his flashlight.</p><p>Dean kicks the ground.</p><p>Seems Cas had no plan of divorcing him at the meantime. He can work with that, but he’s careful not to step too close, nor to get on Castiel’s way. It’s the least he could do. But he’d look over his shoulder again just to check.</p><p>Castiel is keeping up the rear, fierce blue eyes watchful and all senses alert to their dark surrounding. Dean takes the front, gripping his bolt-action rifle. Well, he isn’t gonna get bested despite the difference in power.</p><p>
  <em>It’s a matter of will.</em>
</p><p>Dean hisses—a flashback of Cas telling him how he’s lost his will to go <em>out </em>of Devil’s Island before—and he’s stumbling backward, his boots slipping on a dank overly large tree root somehow too soft to take his weight. He sees his surrounding sway up—sees the depths of darkness of the sealed leaves closing in each other flash before his eyes— he’s falling.</p><p>"Dean?" the voice says crisply, “Dean, your flashlight.”</p><p>Castiel’s gravelly voice calls him from afar.</p><p>Dean jolts back to his reality, his fingers fumbling on the torch before his mind, forcing calm can settle back to his head. He settles to a blank expression, eyebrows contorting automatically, stance alert. No one needs to know how mad he is now, how his nerves are always bad when at the face of losing the people he cared about. In the end, it’s just Dean’s concern nothing more.</p><p>A hand firmly presses on his back with the pad of palm catching his spine, fingers digging on his muscles, but not really holding. Just supporting. <em>Cas.</em></p><p>“Stop daydreaming, Dean. This is not the proper time to be thinking of… trivial things.” Cas gently pushes him in a right position in spite of the edge on his voice. Dean exhales, looking behind him to Castiel staring at him with eyes glinting gravely.</p><p>“Wasn’t daydreaming…” he mumbles, frustration seeping in, wanting to kick the tree root.</p><p>"Please stop worrying about Sam and Jack..."</p><p>"Have you met me?" Dean says, happy to hear the note of sarcasm in his voice.</p><p>“I wouldn’t do that.” Castiel is suddenly standing beside him as if sensing what Dean was planning, shoulders bumping it almost outbalances Dean again, “Don't...  this place is... not for humans, I'm worried for you and how it will affect you..."</p><p>"What are you talking about?" Dean sharply turns to the ground, flashlight pointing uselessly on the ground.</p><p>“I can’t have you losing focus, Dean.” Castiel suddenly says softly. "Concentrate on the mission."</p><p>Dean stiffens, eyeing the angel. The mission... what was it...? </p><p>Castiel stands in front of him now, looking at Dean warily like he wants to say something. Hell, Dean wants to say a lot of things but it’s like his tongue got tied up the roof of his mouth with heart beating so loud enough to awaken any monsters about. Even the dude right under his feet.</p><p>“Let’s split up.” He insists. He can't do anything right if he always thinks Cas will chew him out. A split-second silence where the angel just stares at him, his face carefully blank for a second before he turns away.</p><p>“Dean."</p><p>"I'm serious."</p><p>"You're not thinking straight."</p><p>"I'm never straight..."</p><p>"Then why would you insist on going on separate ways when there's no point? Stop wasting time, Dean."</p><p>Castiel doesn't wait for him as he trudges first with brows furrowed and if Dean wasn’t paying attention, he might have missed the fire in the angel blue eyes.  Except he is and knows he’s being a nuisance.</p><p>If anything is heavier than Dean’s weary heart, it’s his footsteps.</p><p>The trail in Devil’s Island has never been straight without long logs or thick trees or bushes on the way.  The darkness didn’t help. Dean briskly steps over the unleveled ground, his knife weapon firmly held on his arm A heavy load grips his stomach tight. His heart is beating loud in his ear, his palms beginning to sweat, the chides himself for being a wuss.</p><p>And like a mockery to his oscillating nerves, the trees remain dead, not a single rustle nor whisper of the wind. But it’s cold, its bite sharp on Dean’s skin, brittle icicles on his stinging skin while he points his flashlight aimlessly down the ground.</p><p><em>Must be some twenty-two hours.</em>  They have been walking around for two hours and finds no Sam or Jack. Dean’s heart aches for his missing brother and the kid and hopes at least that they found each other. And knowing Sam… Sam is waiting for him. He knows Dean will always come to save his ass no matter what. Unless it’s too late.</p><p>A wave of nausea overcomes the hunter, the bile of abandoning Sam suddenly so suffocating, Dean’s shallow breathing made his head spin. He wants to go back.  Fuck the world, Sam needs him. Jack too.</p><p>He needs to leave Cas... that's right... Dean stops, upper teeth worrying over his bottom lip. Why?</p><p>Castiel senses his movements and stops too, eyes falling on him, not with question nor goading. Just watching. Dean can’t look at him. He steadies his breath to no avail.</p><p>“I can’t…” Dean looks away, “gimme… gimme a second. Don’t follow.” He finds a tree and steps behind it.</p><p>“Dean—”</p><p>“Gimme a second to breathe, Cas…  just a fucking <em>second, </em>alright!”</p><p>Dean just moves to the farthest tree from the angel. Drapes his right arm over the tree trunk and leans his heavy head, his eyes pressing to his damp sleeve. He cools his head for a moment, beads sliding slowly to his cheeks. He can only hear the thudding of his heartbeat.</p><p>
  <em>Shit.</em>
</p><p>He’s not gonna drink coffee for at least a week, he should stop. No more caffeine. Who is he kidding? He suddenly hears twigs breaking and tenses knowing what’s to come. A glimpse of a trench coat and outline of office black shoes too outlandish for monster land. Then Cas is speaking on his side.</p><p>“Dean?”</p><p>“I’ll get this quick, okay?” he snaps, teeth clenching with a lump in his throat. It wasn’t anger.  It was frustration with himself. He can’t believe he’s being pathetic now. The Almighty-Dean- Winchester unnerved by a school trip to Devil’s Island land. He can hear Crowley laughing at his pathetic ass. Damn, he even rather has Crowley see him like this now than Cas! How fucked up is that?</p><p>He hears Cas sigh, but it’s not as edgy as before.</p><p>“Do you want me to relieved your stress? Just a touch on your forehead will do.”</p><p>Dean’s breathing quickened, the drop of his voice heavy and thick. “No, I got this…”</p><p>“Dean—” solid impatience—</p><p>“<em>That’s why I told you we gotta split up so I don’t get on your way, but you wouldn’t let me</em>!” Dean breathes through his mouth, pressing his eyes hard on his arm, blocking everything on his peripheral, even Cas’ trench coat. He’s gonna eat Cas if the angel tells him to calm down. He knows what he has to do. He’s not helping their situation at all. He should tell Cas to go ahead already.</p><p>Another sound of twigs getting stepped on. Then Castiel is on his space, touching his cheeks. Solid warm filled Dean like a ventilator is getting opened for him where he can breathe... he doesn't remember touching Castiel's wrist in a familiar way. He wants to choke up. </p><p>
  
</p><p>"Cas... what's wrong with me?" </p><p>Castiel's expression softens.</p><p>"Nothing, you are perfect, Dean... it's the island, it's messing with you... you especially..." Castiel whispers, blue eyes gentle and moving, "I should have realized sooner..."</p><p>Dean opens his eyes, the bark of trees rough and dry. He musters to comprehend what the angel said and it calms him. <em>It fucking calms him</em>.</p><p>“Sit down, Dean.” </p><p>Dean’s inhales He pulls his head up a little enough to see the outline of the angel on the burrow between the large roots of the trees. He can always see Cas even without the flashlight. Angel that he is with internal light, Cas skin glows like the moonlight absent in their midst. Cas looks so small there. So vulnerable.</p><p>For a second, he even looked lost. Sighing, Dean did the same and slumps his ass down the ground heavily, legs shifting.</p><p>“We don’t have time for the military pep talk, alright?” but he sits down and it feels weird that what he is saying is opposite from what his body wants.</p><p>They sit adjacent to each other and Dean has a brief flashback of Cas letting him sleep on his lap. Dean stares on one spot, visions of his and Cas misadventure the first time. All the shit they’ve done to each other.</p><p>They had been through a lot… now look at the dump that they are.</p><p>He wished he could still have it. Cas ’warmth. Something drops on his left cheek and Dean wonders if it’s raining in Devil’s Island. That’s a first. A moment of silence is broken only by the angel’s deep voice.</p><p>“Dean, I ... please stop drowning yourself with negative emotions."</p><p>“You gotta dick way of saying that."</p><p>“Dean' the island... I think it preys on your negative emotions and heightens it.. making you a little...lost in what's real and not. I just don't want you to forget what's real... that I care about you."</p><p>Dean holds his breath. Cas’ voice is so soft, gentle and so fond. He wants to mistake it for something more, just a little glance of happiness, but his weary heart won’t even let him hope.  It seemed like a long time ago and Dean’s heart aches because he missed it so much. It hit him in waves. He drops his head on his knees, wishing the silent waterworks would stop. His fucking hormones are playing with him. A weather forecast would help him a lot.</p><p>He wished he could speak to Cas about it but something in his mind, so corrupted, tells him the angel wouldn't understand.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>He fell... your very touch corrupts...heart has always been his problem... he likes you.... the angel in a dirty trench coat who's in love with you?</em> </p><p>Dean loves him too... love that corrupted... that hurt Cas.</p><p>It only came to him that Castiel had stopped talking to listen to his ragged breathing. Dean clamps his mouth shut because no, his best friend is not listening to him cry at all. If Cas only know everything Dean wants to say… <em>if Cas only knew Dean’s regret resurfacing in his memory for some reason...</em>just when Dean thought he had kept them all in a box and buried all the painful regrets at the recesses of his mind.</p><p>A soft thump. Dean looks over his shoulder to see the angel leaning his head back on the tree trunk, his expression as still as an unrippled lake.</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Dean... please tell me what's going on... I... I'm worried about you...” Cas goes on, undaunted and unashamed. Dean envies him for being so casual about this proclamation. Then again, Castiel will always be better than him. Dean pulls his head and closes his eyes, breathing finally sedated by Cas’ deep rumbling voice of sincerity.</p><p>It’s one thing Dean can always believe. Cas always so honest and sincere with his feelings. The angel’s voice in the silence sound so perfect—like a string of a guitar gently thrumming in the air. Lulling him to serenity.</p><p>“You and Sam… you’re always at the core of everything and most of the time, I don’t even know how to best protect you both from the world and yourselves. It always felt like fighting two sides of the battlefield with the ticking bomb on my side not knowing when to explode. Not knowing when the other shoe would drop. But you can always count on me to be there...but here, when I can feel you slowly becoming a stranger to me, I worry. It's like I'm losing you. So please, just tell me what's happening?"</p><p>“Why do you care so much, Cas?”</p><p>“Because I can,” Cas says simply. “Because you’re important to me.”</p><p>Dean doesn’t answer. His throat is still too thick, he’s afraid if he speaks, words would come out rushing to be declared. Cas is opening his heart to him again. Castiel is always so honest, always braver than the two.</p><p>Dean looks down his hands. "I don't deserve you."</p><p>"Who told you that?"</p><p>"I just know..."</p><p>“Then you don't know the facts if you don't think you don't...I'm exactly who you need...This island is messing with you. I understand what happens, but if you forgot... if you don’t feel the same way right now, but I trust you, Dean. You always ever do the right thing in the end. So, you don’t have to doubt yourself, you know. I still trust you.”</p><p>Waterworks spring up Dean’s eyes. Where the hell did that come from? And what does Cas mean ‘<em>don’t feel the same’</em>? They’re synchronizing right now—can’t Cas fucking feel that?!</p><p>Before he can think of anything else to counter what has been said, Castiel suddenly whips in front of him urgently, a hand grasping tight on both of Dean’s shoulders. Dean shoots him a surprised look and their eyes finally meet—<em>truly meet the first time since everything started to fall apart.</em></p><p>Dean sees the way Castiel’s expression changes as his blue eyes’ traces everything on the hunter’s face like there is multiple grimy dirt on his face—it only occurred to Dean how damp his cheeks are. It’s like being struck by a lightning bolt. He attempted to pull away, but Castiel wouldn’t let him.</p><p>“Stay!” Castiel hisses, leaning forward urgently.</p><p>But it’s not this that gets the hunter pressing back on the tree trunk, all worries forgotten. Castiel is crouching by his legs, eyes transfixed on his face for a full minute.  Before those sharp blue eyes flicker to intimidate.</p><p>Their faces an inch closer.</p><p>“Cas?” it’s barely a whisper but Cas’s finger on top of his lips and Dean’s brain is shutting down.</p><p>“Mmm..” Cas leans down to his nose, blue eyes bright. "You're cold... this island is dangerous for you."</p><p>Dean sighs. He doesn't know what Cas means but he will believe him.</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>“Be careful with the sharp leaves.” Castiel’s voice comes somewhere behind him, making Dean gruffly snort to elevate the feeling that he is being watched. But Dean feels himself half slipping from the thought. The next thing he knows, he is plucking blackberries from some shrubs. Cas is looking for the exit. Dean is plain lost.</p><p>“Are they poisonous?” Dean asks, rough on the edges but no longer open to hostility. Cas openly says he cares, that somehow whatever shit things Dean did in the past he’s not going to stop caring. So, Dean, humbled by the thought knows he going to start treating Cas better because newsflash—all Dean’s friends are dead or dying.</p><p>He doesn’t dare look up in case Cas is watching—and Cas had been watching him a lot since they began. He can’t afford to look pathetic when the angel of the Lord has all the grit to ignore Sam—his other best friend—cause yeah, strategies, and win-win if they can pull it.</p><p>Dean swallows hard and clears his throat. His brother is damn alive when he gets back on the other side, but for now, he going to trust Cas.  Licking his drained lips and begging himself to be more patient, Dean begged Sam to wait, heart chained momentarily fearful for his fate.</p><p>“No, they are not poisonous. However, they can be severely problematic when ignored.” Castiel quietly responds.</p><p>Nodding, Dean stands up from a kneeling position when the ripple of emotion has ebbed a little. He looks around for Cas and finds the angel feet away, standing at an oak tree, pale skin like moonlight in the dark with blue orbs shaming brilliant star lights which there are none in Devil’s Island.</p><p>“It’s not here.” Castiel pulls blue eyes from Dean onto the wilderness with a disgruntled expression that only made his cheekbones hyper-shaped.</p><p>Vexed and trying hard not to look too much on his angel friend, Dean scans Unpleasant Ville with disconcertment, the pit of his stomach clenching at the stress of Sam’s ambushed meeting and the impending attack.</p><p>Both he and Cas knew someone’s been following them in the dark.</p><p>Shoving bleeding hand inside his jeans pocket and pulls out his phone indicating less than eight hours to go.</p><p>Dean has stopped insisting on going his way, learning not to contradict the angel when there’s so much danger ahead. Cas knows of course and it’s at this time Dean doesn’t want to let the angel out of his sight.</p><p>It’s strange how this clarity to protect his friend embraces his whole being. He takes steps but with eyes on the angel, watching his back, making sure Cas is close by.</p><p>Castiel is just as adamant to get back in the portal more than he cares to show. Dean now knows Cas also wants to save Sam, but in order to do that, they gotta cover their backs first. Dean has to make sure nothing happens to Cas. This determination gives him a view of what to do. Tiny steps. And if Cas ever says they go separate ways so Dean wouldn’t be put in harms-way, Dean will just nut him.</p><p>If he’s feeling gutsy, maybe even kiss him. Hate him. <em>Kill him.</em></p><p>Dean kicks the grasses hindering his path with thick boots and emerges out with a loud huff, flashlight pointing in a straight direction. Like he can pull enough guts to steal a swift kiss on those hardcore angel soldiers anyway.</p><p>Blood rushes on his ears at the thought of how cool Castiel looked just now. Cursing himself and his mounting libido, he checks the bushes again, fully aware of two pair of eyes on his back. Castiel can still certainly leave holes in his soul.</p><p>Dean throws him a glare, rolls his eyes with mouth lopsided as he musters his patience. Why doesn’t the monster come out already? The wrecking anxiety of waiting for a blind attack is more potent than the real thing. It’s unnerving.</p><p>They quietly walk for another fifteen minutes, torches pointing in different directions when Dean feels more than heard the absence of Castiel behind him. He whips around dangerously quick, eyes filled with apprehension at the sudden loss of his companion— a flashback of his first time in Devil’s Island springing in from the bottom heap of his memories—bringing with it a burden of being left on his own—was Castiel’s choice.</p><p>“Cas?” his voice breaks but then he finds the angel kneeling on the ground, rubbing his fingers together with a heavy frown.</p><p>Dean starts when he and Castiel catch each other’s eyes.</p><p>For a second, Dean forgets how to breathe, a strange seizure of the moment where his brain must’ve collapsed without consulting his whole body. It disappears as quickly as it came, his body easing down the tension that grips his senses.</p><p>Castiel stares back at him intently, obviously not missing the gripping fear on Dean’s voice, but Dean is already pointing his flashlight on the ground to avoid any inquiry. The hunter sees a dark blot on top of grasses Castiel is bending down with his eternal grumpy expression back on its throne.</p><p>
  <em>Blood.</em>
</p><p>Flickering blue eyes traces the other smears on the ground for a second, then it finds the hunter again. The majestic colors just fall on Dean with hyper focus enough to make him conscious, his heart skipping a few beats he may have to see several cardiac experts when he returns to his world.</p><p>Castiel’s expression changes a little upon finding the source of the blood, but other than that, he remains quite calm and collected as he slowly stands up and move towards the hunter with purposeful movements.</p><p>“Dean, you’re bleeding.” He says.</p><p>Dean looks down his body, left and right, clutching his rifle tightly wondering when he’s been shot. He finally notices the trail of blood running down his wrist to the seams of his sleeves, circling his fingers to the long cut on his fingers. How he did not feel the pain escapes him, but the smear all over his jacket is disturbing.</p><p>“Ah, shit.” He hisses, looking up, nearly gasping to find Castiel standing in close proximity— it clamps his lips shut. Cas is eyeing him again, pure mixed signals hitting Dean in all directions. Electrical surges at the intensity of their contact then— baritone breaks the silence of the night, even the steady beat of Dean’s heart.</p><p>“Give me your hand.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I have to heal you.”</p><p>Dean would have easily surrendered his useless limbs to the angel—hell, he is willing to surrender his soul to Castiel by now. But they’re on monster land with monster creeping on their back. Dean shifts backward to recognize space and shakes his head.</p><p>Castiel’s eyes narrow and the contortion of his eyebrows are always a sight to see. Damn to point <em>beauty personified.</em> But it’s not this that almost made Dean forgive the angel and smile all despites.</p><p>It’s the fact that Castiel looks like he’s about to jump Dean if he takes another step away from what the angel deems right amount of space when his friend is injured.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Cas asks.</p><p>“I’m fine, it’s just a cut.”</p><p>“A cut so open it’s making you bleed all over the ground.”</p><p>“Don’t be overdramatic, Sam’s nosebleed is worse in winter.”</p><p>“I know. But you’re not Sam. It’s not Winter here, the atmosphere is cold, barely half of what you humans tolerate to live in but not winter. Let me heal you.” he inches just as Dean avoids his touch. Castiel’s expression goes from utter impatience to disbelief.</p><p>“I’m fine.” Knitting his eyebrows at the amount of red still dripping on his finger, Dean wags it vigorously and attempts to hide it on the butt of his weapon. “Gone.” He cheekily smirks that was not shared by the angel.</p><p>“Dean.” Castiel snaps, ill-tempered but Dean is tired of fighting the angel. Been tired of their pointless argument day by day. So, what of a tiny finger cut? Does Dean need to be that pathetic?</p><p>“It’s just a scratch, I can handle it.”</p><p>“You weren’t listening when I told you the cut of those leaves is lethal.” Castiel offers his palm upward and waits for Dean to move his junk with leveled eyes.</p><p>Dean reluctantly raises his friggin sensitive finger, mouth thinning as Castiel draws his hand up with bursting light from his grace to easy Dean from his malady.</p><p>“It’s just a cut.” Dean wrinkles his nose as he looks down his healed skin still fully convinced the angel wasted precious mojo. Castiel doesn’t answer him but the glare he keeps giving Dean is a testament of disapproval, something Dean seems to be winning on Cas’ checklist these days.</p><p>“C’mon.”</p><p>With a loud sigh, Dean follows Castiel into the darkness once again, taking light steps after him with legs beginning to feel sore.</p><p>
  <em>How the hell do they get out of here?</em>
</p><p>Dean is haunted by time and he feels the rest of his arms get drag down like stress lead on his sides. The soreness by his armpit at the press of the rifle’s butt, its weight on his arm and shoulders a constant shackle to vigilance. His sweat is cold by the sixth hour of the nonstop procession but they soldiered on. Cas knows where they’re going.</p><p>Or not. Dean can only believe him.</p><p>At some point, Castiel motions for him to stop. Dean did the best as he can but ends up leaning on the next tree beside him wearily. The darkness is still deep, the red eyes doesn’t really go away, but they don’t attack either.</p><p>“Is there a way out of this place?” Dean mutters gravely, to see the angel giving him a meaningful look. “What?”</p><p>Castiel slowly rounds to him with a clenched jaw and Dean just knows contradicting the angel is out of the question. Man, if Cas tells him to bend, he might as well do so willingly.</p><p>“I need to heal you,” he says, all trace of request not heard, but still managed to be a sweet demand. “Let me?”</p><p>Dean swallows, letting himself swim in those radiating blue filled with concern.</p><p>“Dude, I’m not injured.”</p><p>Cas shakes his head. “You’re exhausted.”</p><p>Dean blinks. Something in Castiel’s glinting eyes that just catches him, something in there that’s making him want to lean closer. His heart races again and not the panic type. The excited one. Must be the warmth in there somewhere. A sense of security. A comfort that he will never be left alone. That he won’t have to do this alone.</p><p>He licks his lips and looks down their feet.</p><p>“We gotta reserve your mojo, Cas…”</p><p>“My grace will serve me nothing if I can’t even heal you. You can’t fight if you’re hurt or tired, Dean.” Dean hates how Castiel makes sense sometimes. Maybe Dean’s the only one not seeing eye-to-eye in this relationship.</p><p>Huffing, he shakes his head and meets Castiel’s eyes unwaveringly.</p><p>“Okay, but don’t be</p><p>Castiel smiles and Dean suddenly doesn’t see the point of flashlights.</p><p>“Don’t worry, Dean. I don’t overexert myself unnecessarily.”</p><p>“Liar.”</p><p>Cas shrugs. Dean smirks. He takes a step forward, the straightest step he’s taken with his bowl legs that bring him almost face to face with the angel. Heart somersaulting, he stares at his friend with bright green eyes widening.</p><p>Castiel doesn’t even flinch, but he does follow the rapid movements of Dean’s eyes. They both know it’s a moment. Both know this is their space. Like they’re back to normal.</p><p>“Alright, Commander-Sir. I’m ready for my close-up.” Dean says smugly to ease the tension building so closely over them again and oh—how Dean missed flirting with his best friend without worrying of getting some smiting on the spot.</p><p>Castiel rolls his eyes, but Dean’s submission must’ve been more important than having the last word. But instead of simply brushing his finger on Dean’s forehead, Cas did the most intimate thing—</p><p>He reaches one palm on Dean’s cheeks—like he did that one time too many—after beating Dean senseless, angel tablet between them.</p><p>It’s not an innocent glow that Dean sees in those blue hues. Not friendly nor fierce. It courses down to his body, to his every fiber, enveloping his very being.</p><p>
  <em>It’s heart. It’s love. It’s gone.</em>
</p><p>Dean wants to say something in the silence that fell once Castiel pulls his hand down. Dean just stood there for a minute or so, just staring at Castiel like he hung the fucking sun in his life despite Devil’s Island because Dean could never mistake that—if it’s really severed—if it’s really cut—their profound bond—<em>how can he feel that intense emotion the angel accidentally let him feel?</em></p><p>Even Castiel seems surprised because he stays still, just staring at Dean. Dean should have kissed him—should have held his hand.</p><p>The moment passed. Again, Dean did nothing, he let it go. He let it go.</p><p>Something in Castiel changed after that. He frowns at Dean, then steps away and turns, not looking back like he’s hurt. Betrayed. But Dean couldn’t bring himself to say it.</p><p><em>How can three words ever be said easily? </em>Not for Dean.</p><p>“Let’s go.” Castiel says without another word to what just happened between them.</p><p>They begin their endless vigil again, Dean looking around the place trying to find some excuse to speak. The lingering warmth in his body, much more than just grace remains heated, pooling inside his stomach.</p><p>The way he’d look over at Dean with a slight side glance, but not totally looking. Dean’s heart couldn’t swell any bigger because he understands the need to be close. After that tremendous connection, he just wants to stay beside Castiel.</p><p>Castiel reaches for Dean’s arm with a severe expression. Dean made a face when he confirms Castiel is serious. “You’re cold. It’s not normal. You have to rest.”</p><p>“Cas—”</p><p>Dean’s body is enveloped with sudden warmth coursing through his veins. He gapes at the tight brace of the angel on his shoulder—the same shoulder where his original handprint can be found, is linking him to the angel’s grace before Dean can even summon up the right words to refuse.</p><p>Pulling his hand away, Castiel doesn’t step away from Dean’s space and just stares him in the eyes looking disgruntled. “I…” he looks down his hand, flipping it up and down.</p><p>“Your mojo’s not kicking, huh?” Dean pulls away from the angel’s grip, frowning, rubbing the side of his pounding head with his left hand. Ahead of them, the Demon slowly turns but did not attempt to escape, his eyes lingering from Dean before settling on the angel wearily.</p><p>Castiel shifts uneasily on the spot, “It seems we both need to rest.”</p><p>“Can’t we do that later? Do you see that? That’s the light at the end of the tunnel. Come on, Cas, just a little more—”</p><p>“I don’t care, at least fifteen minutes.” Castiel pleads, losing composure.</p><p>Dean flushes red at concern. He doubles back, taken by surprise because—shit did he look that bad? Sure, his head is aching like mad, his body feels like the draught has finally decided it’ll take over the orifice of his shit, but he sees Cas as light.</p><p>“Thought you’re Mr. Soldier-mode? Is this how you wanna end up dead, Cas? Sustaining me with your grace every time you think my body’s too mortal and not good enough?”</p><p>The soft look disappears. Castiel’s eyes narrow a squint.</p><p>“You have no time to self-deprecate, Dean. Just please rest for me even for a couple of minutes. I will take care of the monster, just rest.”</p><p>Saying so, Castiel walks straight to the Demon who warily watch as he comes. Without warning, Castiel knocks the poor guy out with a sharp jab of his fingers. He falls down the ground like a giant rag doll from some incredible heights with a thud.</p><p>Dean stares, mouth dropping open.</p><p>Cas can be so hot some times. Not that he hasn’t noticed before, but every time the angel does something so… <em>angelic-fuck-off-my-lawn</em> Dean finds himself just <em>proud </em>–</p><p>He’s always been proud of his buddy.</p><p>The flurry butterflies don’t disperse, not even with Castiel walking back in his space before Dean can take a lungful of air for being this angel’s center of pure intense attention.</p><p>“Rest. For me, Dean.” He says firmly, not open for argument.</p><p>And it’s not because he’s not threatened by Castiel’s finger— not really—though he did give those slender portions some consideration because who the hell knows when his friend would just use the magic <em>skadoosh </em>on him Dean oscillates on the spot.</p><p>“Sometimes I don’t know if you want to tear me apart or just kiss me, Cas.” Dean murmurs, exhaustion taking its toll as he stares down the angel whom he has no trouble towering over.</p><p>Castiel doesn’t say anything but he does touch Dean’s arm and guides him to another burrow of the tree. Is it gonna be like this their last-minute in Devil’s Island? Being cozy and sweet, it’s almost prohibited. But another side of Dean thinks how it’s not bad to be on Castiel’s side.</p><p>Surprisingly, Castiel sits down right beside Dean and it’s quite daunting how all of these seem to pull Dean back to their first flight in the same plane. </p><p>“Are there still any injury you’re hiding from me, Dean?” the angel asks beside him.</p><p>Shaking his head, Dean pulls his right knee and drops his head on it without another word. He did not realize how tired he’s been until Castiel points it out. He always tries to get as much as four hours, but the way his body is so tired, he’s afraid he might exceed.</p><p>“Fifteen minutes.” Dean tells Cas with a loud exhale. “Wake me in fifteen minutes.”</p><p>“Of course, Dean.”</p><p>“And Cas?” Dean raises his eyes, “Don’t go anywhere, okay?”</p><p>Castiel’s face turns soft and somber.</p><p>“Trust me, Dean. That’s the last thing I will ever do.”</p><p>
  
</p><p>Somewhere in his restless sleep only soothed by warm intimate hands caressing his forehead, his cheeks, burning down to his neck, Dean hears muffled voices. Growling voices. The sound drifts to his unconscious… one of the voices too familiar…</p><p>
  <em>“… that’s not human. We hear of the Winchesters from our own network and that’s not human, angel. That’s a monster in pink soft skin only waiting to be shred.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Leave him alone or I’ll pull your tongue out along with your hundred teeth. And I wouldn’t even bat an eyelid.” </em>
</p><p>A mocking snort.</p><p>
  <em>“… why do you protect the mortal? Because of your father’s will? But we heard the old banker’s left the spot hundred years ago. You and your kind could’ve taken over the Garden. Oh, you call it mortal world.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…you are not in my confidence to know.”</em>
</p><p>Dean’s head slumps back the hard ground so fast at the sudden absence of that firm thigh, but the groan he heard did not come from his lips. The hunter sits right up, his senses and he’s clutching on his gun. He grits his teeth at how lax he’d been—until his eyes widen at what he sees ahead.</p><p>Castiel holding the Demon by the neck and has lifted him up from the ground.</p><p>“Cas?” Dean croaks, sitting up and staring at the angel handling the monster viciously, blue eyes flickering dangerously, making Dean blink at the sudden violence. “What…”</p><p>Castiel half turns in his direction. Dean easily recognizes the curl on his chapped lips that looked so displeased, eyebrows leveled with ill-intent. Shoving the Demon back with barely a flick of his wrist, the monster hit his back hard on the nearest tree, almost robbing him of breath. Castiel whips his trench coat back to Dean.</p><p>“What’s going on?” Dean stands up in wobbly legs, clutching his rifle as he stares at Cas now in front of him to the monster muttering curses behind him. One wrong move and Dean’s gonna blow that Demon’s head. One fucking move. He lets the monster know that when their eyes meet. He turns to the angel. “Cas?”</p><p>“It’s nothing.”</p><p>Dean raises an eyebrow.</p><p>“You gonna skin our only lead alive and suddenly, it’s nothing?”</p><p>Castiel only presses his thin lips, an air of fury still exuding from his movements. Dean quirks eyebrows at Cas when he catches the angel’s eyes.</p><p>“How are you feeling?” Cas deviates at once.</p><p>“I’m good, how long—<em>shit—forty-five minutes!”</em> Dean hisses, panicking. “Cas—I told you fifteen will do—”</p><p>“Your body seems to disagree with it.” Castiel is looking down the mobile too. Their eyes meet, “But you’re right, we do have to move. I don’t like the presence I’ve been sensing around—”</p><p>“Yeah—you could’ve thought of that instead of playing nurse—”</p><p>“Honestly, Dean, I don’t give a damn. This place is draining you for some reason, didn’t you feel that?” Castiel huffs, taking a dangerous step forward, eyes squinting and Dean can’t help biting his bottom lip, the effort of fight and flight in the presence of the angel making his head spin. </p><p>“W-what do you mean draining?”</p><p>“I don’t know. but whatever it's the effect on you...it's bad and I can't..." Shaking his head, Cas closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Dean didn’t know how the angel’s show of sudden uncertainty could make him feel so torturously in pain. Cas is strong, Cas has always been strong—but traces of his feelings, of his love, is so openly making him weak. Like heart is always his problem.</p><p>Dean takes Castiel’s shoulder, peripheral on the monster watching them. “Hey… what’s going on? I don’t get it. Why would I drain your energy?”</p><p>“I don’t know too, Dean… the moment I did the first time… I thought you were only so tired… but the second time it took a toll on me… Something about me giving you a piece of my grace—you—your body takes everything in ago—”</p><p>Dean stares at his friend, brain working furiously. “What? What does that mean... and who were you talking to about me awhile ago?"</p><p>Castiel blinks. "I didn't..."</p><p>Dean panics. Cas said Dean's sucking his grace? The question of how is easily pushed by of course. The idea that he’s hurting his best friend—that he’s draining his best friend of his grace didn’t sit well with him. They took a turn over the hill, the ground now uphill and grassy. Dean looks around the gray sky. It still daunts him how Devil’s Island resembles a mountain up north on earth. He can’t help but feel that the ground he’s walking is part of the earth once a long time ago.</p><p>It took another thirty minutes. Arms aching, Dean clasps the weapon tighter on his good arm. Castiel gives him a strange look which the hunter returns. They have been silently communicating about their uncertainties of following the Demon into the misty path when the silence is broken by the monster.</p><p>It still hadn’t registered to him how everything went wrong, not thirty minutes later into waking up, dragging his leg one after the other back to where he started hoping things would be okay because he’s fucking no idea what to do.</p><p>He tried to remember the last thing that happened, ground himself to details because that’s how he put things in order, how he organizes his head. How he makes a decision next. His throat dries and he licks his lips.</p><p>"Are you okay?" Castiel asks.</p><p>"...thirsty..." Dean croaks. Castiel nods.</p><p>"Then stay here, I will get water."</p><p>It didn’t sink. Nothing was making him understand the depth of his loss nor the hollow right through his chest. He wants to start somewhere like a target, baby steps, but the idea of being too late always hits him so hard every time he makes a stop to track back where he thinks Castiel is not by his side. Like now. Something in Dean's mind clicks in.</p><p>Castiel is gone. Dean wildly looks around, the world swirls. And then he starts running away.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's all a blur.</p><p>From the wild panic comes the single feeling of loss, but when Dean breathes in his alarm, the first name out of his lips is Castiel's.</p><p>But he was nowhere around. Just the endless suffocating gray trees. Dean doesn't know what possessed him in running but he's going back the same way. He won’t abandon Cas, no— Sam and Jack too... what is he doing. His world spins.</p><p>Dean groans.</p><p>What if they’re all dead and Dean’s stuck here in Devil’s Island for good? Dying alone… he can’t even do that properly.</p><p><em>“Cas!?”</em> his voice hoarse, his nerves dying, dead.</p><p>He yells the name, again and again till his lips are dry, his stomach twisting. That’s when the pain registers even when he’s barely injured. It comes to him now, the flood of <em>pain.</em></p><p>Castiel has to be safe somewhere. Cas must be fighting now to get back to him.</p><p>“CAS!”</p><p>Both ache and loss are crippling, he doesn’t even know if he’s on the right path. He trudges the ground with heavy feet, dragging them more like with chains from where Cas was taken. Where Cas was kidnapped. The place Dean figured out waiting would do him no good, not if he wants to help his friend.</p><p>
  <em>“Cas!” </em>
</p><p>It’s the piercing silence that haunted Dean from the core. It’s where it begins to crumble. Cas said he’ll always come when he calls. Something tested and bested between them a long time ago in Devil’s Island and this time, Castiel may never answer.</p><p>What’s the only thing Dean can do?</p><p>It’s the thirst that landed him there. Walking in circles with no idea where he was going or whether Castiel could find him or he finds Cas, he saw a riverside where he just fell on his knees to drink water. All he remembers then was getting drowsy and then just black.</p><p>Or so Dean thinks because the minute he blinks, he finds himself inside thick muddy clay windowless walls, with only torches on two sides for light. The atmosphere is dank, furry moss growing on corners inside the small space of earth and Everything around him is grey and dirt. The roofing is dark wood of some ancient oak tree but it is not these that have him spinning and freezing as he did moments ago with Cas.</p><p>Someone is behind him; he can almost see it then feel with red blinking lights of warning ahead. He turns and jumps away at their proximity as he sees her— not the familiar woman of her teens, not in the meat suit of his Sorceress as he’d last seen her burn with his blood on her lips. But the figure remains tall and thin, skin pale pearly white. Her eyes are inky pools, cheekbones hollow and gaunt, eyebrows there sit danger with hair a wave of dark curls. She wears silky satin robes down her bare toes.</p><p>And she’s floating. Dean swallows hard. He turns cold because he recognizes her, not by appearance, but by presence. Like she's inside him and that snapped him in attention if nothing else.</p><p>“Hello, Dean.”</p><p>Dean steps back warily. “Sorceress…” the words are out of his mouth without thinking.</p><p>“Sorceress.” She offers with a nod.</p><p>"What... what have you done to me....?" Dean croaks but she only smiles. Dean blinks. This is wrong....something... Cas... pray... he prays knowing it will get through his friend who is probably driven by the loss of his best friend by now. Dean grits his teeth imagining the smile of the angel fading quickly into concern.</p><p>
  <em>Cas…?</em>
</p><p><em>“Praying to your angel</em>?” tone all ominously sweet and poisonous, her eyes dead and apathetic. Dean hisses to find her face to face he backs out till he hits the wall.</p><p>“Get out of my head! Didn’t you learn it’s rude to look inside healthy men’s dirty mind?” Dean snarls, looking around for a weapon—any weapon but there’s nothing near his reach. There is his dagger inside his pocket but he’s keeping that for later, once he sees an opening to escape. Because he will.</p><p>In the meantime, he reluctantly turns back to the deadly monster of the day. Sorceress smiles so catastrophically evil and Dean is reminded how she is one of the progenitors of all monsters he has been fighting all his life. If she had not been created, would it make any difference in the world?</p><p>“No.” she responds in nonchalance, keeping her ground as she observes Dean, “Great monsters are bred, but they can also be made from people whose soul have rotted enough in a ritual your kind knows to perfect—by killing your own. War, simple hatred, divergence in opinion and race… The Garden has it all. As long as corrupted souls exist there will always be monsters and hunters like you will always have something to fight. But I do not condone to the killings of my children since the balance have been forgotten and you and your friends following my children here... You have to answer to that.”</p><p>Dean grimaces. “You really think I should’ve just put my head on a plate when your children weren’t so polite in asking, huh? Newsflash—Sorceress’s still going to show good role modeling to the little ones or they grow up getting beheaded, witch—”</p><p>His body gets lifted when she twists her fingers. Then he slams back on the wall like a ragdoll. Dean’s yell of pain echoes in the room. He groans at the burning ache around his shoulder and back, but it’s a glare of flashing daggers he gives to the powerful creature.</p><p>“Sorceress,” her eyes are smoky white, it makes Dean’s skin crawl.</p><p>“You are very interesting… normal humans would have perished at the inhale of my scent, let alone my sight….”</p><p>“What are you, another Medusa?” he chuckles. She stares at him more sinister as she steps closer now. Dean’s pulse races. He knew it was a bad idea to egg her and hit her buttons. Damn, in this world, only Castiel is allowed to render him speechless, he wouldn’t give the same power to just anyone. Her eyes glimmer with dark shadows under her sunken eyes, getting inches closer.</p><p>“But then you are very unique… you have the protection of the celestial beings not only on your vessel but imbued in your soul… so you still live.”</p><p>
  <em>What?</em>
</p><p>In a sweep—they are nose to nose. Dean inhales, his bottom lip bleeding at the surprising proximity. He feels her claw-like hand dig on his right arm and lifts it up between them. Dean snarls and tries to pull away, but he can’t move his body. He’s been immobilized and pinned on the wall.  She’s so close, he can see her eyelashes sweep down her pale cheeks, the rim of her eyes blood red.</p><p>She touches his chin and lifts it up, studying him like he’s an object. Without much as a blink, she rips his dark jacket’s sleeve, Dean hearing the sound like his limbs is with it. His breathing turns rapid when her clammy hands begin to press on his arm’s skin, kneading and feeling it like it’s some meat for display.</p><p>“W-what are you doing?”</p><p>Dean freezes He licks his dry lips nervously because one thing he doesn’t like in the middle of a battle against a very deadly foe is targets getting changed. Okay. So, she’s not after Cas? Good… that’s good, right?</p><p>“He’s still here. Your angel.” She rubs his arm, pushing the sleeves up his elbow and hyper-focusing on that one area enough to give Dean the shivers. She slowly pulls her eyes up to his sweating face. Dean had stopped moving. Then her clammy hand slide down his neck intimately goosebumps shoot all over his body. Her hand slides down his shoulder and stops right at the spot he knows that is well-marked. She ripped his shirt out and he’s yelling because of her brute strength—his clothes come in pieces until his jacket and flannel are torn out, exposing his top. Her left hand clamped his mouth shut, the other traced the mark— Castiel’s mark.</p><p>“Claimed by an angel,” she whispers, staring him down with milky eyes. He did not like the way her dark lips curve into the most menacing smile. “Interesting… you share an intimate bond with this creature… not to mention the fragments of a powerful archangel still running in your vessel.</p><p>Dean breathes on her palm, struck. She’s talking about Michael, no one else… And she comes so close it took guts to keep his eyes open.</p><p>“Do you know, creatures like me cannot sustain their magic powers without relying on the power of the moonlight. The moonlight holds celestial powers that get stronger once full… and that only happens every few months… but… look at that, someone with archangel powers within my grasp… and an angel’s love. An angel’s grace… that will be enough to supply me for a lifetime. Do you think he will come for you?”</p><p>He tugs his chin out of her grasp.</p><p>“Cas won’t come here for me,” Dean says fist clenched. “I won’t let you hurt him!”</p><p>“You don’t believe that I can see it in your eyes?” she says, eyeing his arm. “I knew the first time I saw you, you are the key to capture the angel. I still fear his kind, but with a weakness… the tables turn.”</p><p>She kissed him—sucked the life out of him. Her tongue elongated and snakelike licks inside his mouth to his throat. It was disgusting but struggle as he wants, he’s petrified.</p><p>The pain almost caught him off guard and he’s screaming at the top of his lungs. The tearing of flesh echoes in his ears. The agony is instantaneous, yet not thoroughly unexpected because he came here prepared. The sharp teeth left his flesh—the burst of blood profusely sliding down his arm as he falls on the ground, the scream of the monster sweet revenge as Dean got to his feet. She’s shaking on one corner, bloodshot eye on Dean while holding her burning mouth—she screams more.</p><p>Dean grimaces while sporting his bleeding arm.</p><p>“Phoenix ash, you son of a bitch.” The drink Cas made running in his bloodstream... something that couldn't have protected his mind.</p><p>That's it. This is all lies... Cas... <em>Cas!</em></p><p>He makes it to the only door in the room—but when he turns back to Sorceress, she’s gone. Dean hisses and doubles back to the doorway— only to feel stabbing pain so excruciating it quickly sent him to his knees. Sharp claws dig deep on his left side and he screams like he’s never done before. Even has materialized. Her fingers dig deep in his gut like she means to pull his inside out. Dean crumples on the ground with Sorceress standing in front of him with black blood oozing from the corner of her mouth, an evil glint in her eyes.</p><p>Dean’s vision blurs as the throbbing pain catches his weary body and he begins to drift. The room lit only by the fire swims. His blood leaves his body and he swears he could hear sounds of the bell from heaven.</p><p>
  <em>No. Not there.</em>
</p><p>Dean sucks air with green eyes opening determinedly. He swallows hard, body frozen in shock, but he’s had worse. With discomfort along with the pricking pain all over, he begins to claw the earth. Sensation after sensation nearly called him to the land of the dead, but Every time he ends with the ringing of the bell, he doesn’t think of heaven anymore.</p><p>He thinks of Castiel. He gets on his feet, nearly laughing at himself because at the turn of the tides, wasn’t it just hours ago when it was Cas battling the same foes and managed to come back alive? Dean thinks Castiel will scold him if he did the opposite so stand up, he did.</p><p>And at that moment he only thinks of Castiel. The angel who’s gotten him this far because he believed Cas can. And the reward. He thought he’d never see it again. Maybe Cas sees him the same way, but Dean holds the image sacred in his memory. He’s just staring at the door, almost and in chagrin, thinking of Castiel bursting in to save his sorry ass again, even if it meant sacrificing himself. Letting down the world.</p><p>It was the most rewarding result after all the hardships, the best thing he’s received Even when there’s no reason to achieve it. Cas didn’t have to forgive him. But Cas did and Dean doesn’t know why it’s easy for him. Dean won’t ever be able to hold a candle on his angel’s honesty, his kindness. Castiel’s kind of <em>love.</em></p><p>Tears stream down his face as he thinks how Castiel is still stuck here in Demon’s Island because of him.</p><p>The hold of Demon’s Island scratches deep under the buried emotions of guilt chained on the recesses of his brain. It came like it always does like a wave that brings him back that familiar old path of self-deprecation. It cuts deep Every single time. For his failures, his letdowns, his loss. His selfishness on seeking the easy way out without a thought to the people he hurts. To a dear friend who deserves better than being treated Cas already saved them, risked his life to get the demons away from him under the threats of his enemies but still managed to succeed. But things went downhill and it wasn’t because of Cas. The words he spat out like poison that night to his friend—of blaming him for all the change in the plan because things go wrong. To blame it all to Cas makes Dean hate his own skin so much, he wants to rip himself out of that skin,</p><p>It was him. It had always been him—the reason why everything goes down from freeing Lucifer, to collapsing the world and now against god…  it’s him and no one else in the cycle, always causing the balance to tip at the brink.</p><p>And even Castiel’s fall. Because of <em>saving him from perdition, </em>Castiel lost a lot. Suffered a lot. And it’s all Dean can take as guilt eats him deep inside his hollowed heart.</p><p>Demon’s Island is cold, always been. But the cold he felt is not from the outside. It’s inside. Like icicle sharp on his heart. What amount of light, amount of shredded hope it didn’t come from anyone except his best friend— Cas forgave him regardless of the pain he caused. How and why, how, and why…</p><p>But this isn’t about him anymore. This is about him hurting his friend. He has apologized but there are things that still needed to be said.  Things that shouldn’t be left alone. So, he clung to Cas with every last bit of his sanity. Not too late to go back to Cas. Not too late to return to his warmth.</p><p>It wasn’t over.</p><p>As pain left his body, he feels his throat get strangled and before he knows it, he’s dangling off the ground. Dean pried his eyes open and sees the sorceress staring at him, her milky eyes now pure black, her dark lips smeared with dark blood as she held him up the ground.</p><p>“I’m half demon,” she mocks, “Phoenix ash can only touch me… but come, let’s finish the ritual so when your angel arrives and see you, he’ll be in so much despair, I can kill him.”</p><p>Dean couldn’t breathe, he’s losing consciousness. He becomes afraid of what kind of world he will wake up to. Afraid of what will become of Cas.</p><p>He feels it in his gut, he becomes teary.</p><p>
  <em>Don’t come… please…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>—I will always come.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No…</em>
</p><p>“Let’s go, the angel will be here soon. I’d like to serve you on a golden plate.”</p><p>“That isn’t necessary.”</p><p>Dean can only see bright lights amidst the chaos of his brain. Something inside him is aching, burning, and breaking at the same time but he tries to hold fast on that feeling of safety when all else around him is a blur.</p><p>“Let him go.”</p><p>“You… I would have expected more from an angel… your wings…”</p><p>“Let him go.”</p><p>Dean hears laughter; it rings in his brain. There’s so much pain and bright lights combined with the feeling of sinking…</p><p>“You’re not up to this, angel… you’re broken which makes the body of this boy even more special. I’d rather have him than your piece of grace. An archangel—"</p><p>“You’re not listening. I said <em>let him go”</em></p><p>Bright lights—only bright lights and a scream. Dean feels all hot, its like he’s going to explode. His body doesn’t belong to him, his soul is breaking and in the middle of the confusion, something inside of him held him fast, telling him it would be okay. But he is falling….</p><p>
  
</p><p>If peace, when one is done, embraces death, and by afterlife means waking up in a dream-state of perpetual harmony of one’s soul, and by extension should include the uncharacteristic repose that lulls one’s senses in a place of retreat, a bright world with nothing but brown sand and blue sky that Dean never knew to exist, sadly knowing it isn’t his own imaginings for his mind is incapable of fashioning such vivid picture of peace, is when he can safely conclude he is dead.</p><p>Perhaps he isn’t and this is a real dream for how else could one explain lying in a warm sandy shore, pure white sand touching his back while he stares unfailingly at the glaring sun that doesn’t hurt his eyes, nor burn his skin. It takes a while before his conscious state has him sitting up, green eyes opening to the stretch of a vast ocean, the soft high hills enveloped in the purest of blue sky and orchestra of the waves breaking the tranquility of his surroundings. It’s magnanimous to behold.</p><p>Limitless and so very lonely. He can’t live without water…</p><p>Startled by his own consciousness, Dean solidifies into a full form. He stares out looking for something, not knowing what. He wants to ask questions but nothing forms in his mind. The surrounding tells him to be at peace, to keep peace and he agrees. He can stay here; he can rest here… he can.</p><p>He can’t shake that feeling that something is missing. Dean wanders aimlessly. He wants to without knowing what to, but it’s unfair because the feeling of eternal tranquility is lulling him to forget things, things he knows important but are slowly slipping from his grasp. He walks the endless, pathless sand, staring out to something, someone, anyone.</p><p>It starts to discomfit him the more he tries to remember but nothing happens. Something heavy falls inside his stomach, a sinking feeling of losing something but what… but still, he keeps walking.</p><p>There’s a beat. Dean pauses and blinks. What made him stop, he could not identify, but his body trembles. Something is happening. Then his shoulder burns and Dean yelps—the first reaction he has since waking up in this sacred place.</p><p>There’s a ping in his ear, bells. Someone’s coming for him.</p><p>Dean turns around to where he came from. There’s a vast view of the sand. There’s that sinking feeling again. But he waits. Someone’s coming for him, he can feel it.</p><p>It began as a dot, then it gradually grew.</p><p>It steals Dean’s breath away when he recognizes the form walking towards him in all-purpose, and with a strange sound vibrating from the middle of his throat, he struggles to his feet, feeling the warm soft brown sand sinking the web of his feet, of the sand like cloud environment.</p><p>“Dean!”</p><p>“Cas…” the name slips out of his lips before he knows what he is saying. He blinks and swallows hard. Sure enough, the form gradually turns out to be his angel in the trench coat, running to him complete with black shoes not even touching the sand. Dean takes a deep breath.</p><p>
  <em>“CAS!”</em>
</p><p>That’s all he needs to remember and things come flashing in his mind as he slowly struggled on his feet, wanting to reach the angel halfway. Castiel is running to him and as the distance grew smaller, memories upon memories spring in his mind. Dean’s foot loses its strength and he is falling again—this time Castiel catches him.</p><p>“Dean!” Castiel embraces him, holds him close with a vice-like grip and Dean smashes his face on the angel’s solid chest, “Dean!”</p><p>“Cas…” Dean breathes fast as the juggled memories make him weak, he kneels on the ground with the angel gripping him tight, a concerned expression on his face. “Cas…?”</p><p>“I’m glad I found you…” Castiel says, face breaking. “I’ve been here… I keep calling you…”</p><p>“Cas, what happened?”</p><p>“Where in the Bunker,”</p><p>“Bunker?” the memory returns too—his favorite kitchen, the room—the Dean cave—</p><p>“On your bed, you were in a coma…”</p><p>Dean blinks. “What…?”</p><p>“It’s not important for now, we need to get out of here now, this is a dream, you’ve been in a coma for a week and I had to wait for my grace to return… no one else could do this, Dean… please tell me you don’t want to stay here.”</p><p>“What…” Dean blinks at the paradise around them and once again he was hooked by a moment of peace. But one look from his angel’s face and Dean snaps out of it, “Take me home.”</p><p>“Are you sure? Because this spell you’re under won’t work if your hearts, not in it…”</p><p>Dean wants to ask a lot of things but the worried expression of his friend so he nods. Then he smiles, “Are you kidding? This is just an empty place without you… my heart is where you will be… you know that.”</p><p>Castiel embraces him again, arms all over Dean’s shoulder. Enveloping Dean with his warmth. Dean closes his eyes and clings to the feeling of love, the only living thing in this empty paradise. Bright lights fill them, Dean burns but it doesn’t hurt.</p><p>Amidst the scattering of consciousness, Castiel tells him, “I love you.”</p><p>
  
</p><p>When Dean wakes up, it’s to find that Sam and Jack are waiting for him too. He instantly sits up, grasping his body and making sure he is solid before throwing them surprised looks.</p><p>“What happened?”</p><p>Sam sighs and Jack smiles. “It’s going to be okay.”</p><p>And then both of them turned their heads to the left. Dean followed their line of sight and sees Castiel on the bed, unconscious. A shout begins to form on his lips, a cry and demand to know what—but then the angel’s eyelids flutter open, and then blue eyes stare back at him. Dean feels his body slump back the bed, it’s Castiel who got to his feet first, wrapping warm hands on his cheeks.</p><p>“Hello, Dean.”</p><p>Dean couldn't help it. He bolts out of bed, throws his arms around the angel's neck, and kisses him, loud and dirty. It should make up for all the pain and help clear his head. It did because since then, Dean only wants to kiss Cas again and again.</p><p>
  
</p><p>It took only three days for Dean to recuperate and try to remember what happened. Sam filled him up mostly while he stays on the bed, still unsure how his body is too weak.</p><p>“Your soul nearly got sucked out of your body, that sorcerers poisoned your vessel, Dean.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Jack physically saved you, but your consciousness was not there.” Sam adds with apprehension lining his face, “We all thought it was too late… and then Castiel found you… some profound bond working there…. But he found you. Jack brought us all back in the bunker, we already finished the task.”</p><p>“How?” Dean asks, yawning.</p><p>“He needs to rest, for now, stop it, Sam.” Castiel reprimands the younger brother as he helps Dean on the bed and tucks him in. Dean watches him and smiles.</p><p>“Are you our mother now?”</p><p>“Yes. Now rest.” Castiel said, leaning down and kissing his forehead. Dean is fast asleep with his lip’s half into a smile.</p><p>Days later, they have the Bunker all to themselves. Sam and Jack went into a hunt and since Castiel won’t allow Dean out of the Bunker, he was also left behind. Dean stares at Cas lovingly that night as they share the table.</p><p>“Are you my babysitter now?” Dean asks. “Who’s the pizza man?” he inclines his head to the boxes of pizza on the table. Castiel smile is small, but mostly he is just watching Dean.</p><p>“Are you really feeling okay now?”</p><p>“Cas, you’re my sexy doctor, you tell me your prognosis, doc?”</p><p>Castiel nods in satisfaction and they fall into a comfortable silence.</p><p>“You don’t have to keep saving me you know,” Castiel says to Dean who’s sitting adjacent to him in the kitchen table devouring three slices of pizza piled into one and</p><p>“Does your body bleed?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Does it feel pain when it’s pierced?”</p><p>“When the weapon is meant to hurt angels—”</p><p>“Then the pain is real.” Dean concludes, tossing the pizza crumb inside his mouth with a stare at the angel. Castiel still frowns and chews his lips.</p><p>“But Dean, mortal weapons cannot hurt me—guns, bombs,</p><p>“And if those things suddenly have angel blade dust or angel bullet?” Dean stops eating, full attention now at him, “Cas, we deal with different enemies every day, enemies who know us. Enemies who have beef against us, especially me who knows that ‘Dean Winchester’ doesn’t sail ship without his ‘Dean Winchester’s angel’, which means any time we can deal with an enemy who knows what he’s facing and smart enough to prepare a plan to either get you or get through you. Really, nothing pays better than caution. Knowing who our enemies are, because they know us. I’m not sure about you, but that’s the risk I’m not willing to take.”</p><p>He tilts his head.</p><p>“By caution you mean always holding me back while you make your body a shield?”</p><p>Dean grabs his glass and takes a swig, eagle eyes on Cas. Castiel doesn’t under the logic when it’s clear he is the angel and the soldier captain while Dean is his charge and should be protected, must be protected at all cost. There should be no grounds for Dean to always pull him back or push him away, or even be in control of the battle grounds.</p><p>Dean surveys him critically like he’s measuring Castiel’s words which to angel must be given the same attention if Dean is going to start his reasoning about caution.</p><p>Castiel purses his lips. “I just don’t see the point of you worrying about my well being when you’re more prone to injury.”</p><p>“You know how medics are part of the battle but work on self-preservation, that’s you Cas. No matter how many times we get injured, you got our backs.”</p><p>“You don’t need to be healed if you don’t get hurt in the first place.”</p><p>“You</p><p>“But I don’t want to see you injured.”</p><p>Dean stares at him long.</p><p>“I don’t want to see you injured either.”</p><p>Castiel sighs. “So this is an impasse?”</p><p>“No, this is me telling you I’m not gonna let anything happen to my angel. There’s a reason they all say ‘Dean’s Angel, Cas… and I’m going to hold up that bargain.”</p><p>“Well, maybe I like you a lot, so sue me!” Dean says derisively, closing the lid of one pizza box and grabbing the second one and piling it on the top of the other boxes.</p><p>Castiel blinks as Dean aggressively attacking four slices of pizza. He stays silent while his friend chews on melted cheese, feeling a rising tension in the silence</p><p>“Got another question?”</p><p>“When you say ‘a lot’…”</p><p>“Cas.”</p><p>Castiel nods mutely. But he watches Dean quietly with soft eyes.</p><p>“I like you like I love the world.”</p><p>He lets Dean figure it out. Dean takes his time. But he smiles.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>still fixing a bit~</p></blockquote></div></div>
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